Amber Blade
by ShadowSong StarGlaive The Wolf
Summary: [Complete]Zann Juskarath Taggerung could defeat any beast in the Juskarath, even at twelve seasons. For who could defeat the Taggerung Juska?
1. The Taggerung

A/N I really want to own Redwall. Then I have an excuse for writing Redwall every free minute of my life. Seriously. I mean, how many Redwall fics have I written? I wrote one with pencil and paper earlier, about a year and a half ago. It was stupid, thirty written pages front and back on collage lined paper. It was about the strange occurrence of four Taggerungs being born and in the separate plot, a large Juska tribe kicked out it's Seer and left her to die. The catch? They all meet up at Redwall, who are fighting off another Juska tribe. It was my first Redwall fanfic. But I can't post it because I wrote it with my own hand! I can't even read my own writing! Believe me, I tried. But even if I did copy and posted it on the computer, I used the names of the Badger Ladies in Song of a Shadow in my first Redwall fic. So that wouldn't work, but I'll stick with what I have.  
  
Before that, I had written a Poke'mon (yeah, but that was actually three years ago) fanfic to amuse my friends, because I put them in there, and all that good stuff. I did post one of the stories for a while, but then deleted it, because it was the third installment in the series. So you see, Song of a Shadow wasn't my first fic. I really made Song of a Shadow for my brother to read, and because I had the main character, Shadowsong, as a wolf in all my Redwall role-plays. See? It was about in chapter four that I discovered ff.net. Now I've posted ten stories and am writing more!  
  
I really hope you like this story. Yeah, it's going to be short, maybe three chapters, but I'll try to make each on long (for me anyway), maybe five pages each. My usual chapters are three to four pages.  
  
Sorry for the long A/N, but I had to let it out sometime. Read and enjoy! And please review! I was ecstatic when I got 14 reviews for Seven Axes. (That was one of my favorites to write; I was sorry to see it end. TT)  
  
Tagg's about 12 season's in this fic. I think that 12 seasons means twelve years. I mentioned that in Seven Axes.  
  
Disclaimer: This is copyright Brian Jacques. Like I own Redwall. I type this with my paws alone, and I shall never own Redwall. I wish, though.  
  
(Begin Chapter One)  
  
Zann Juskarath Taggerung hurled his knife. The sinewy otter watched the blade spin and strike the target, a bird feather floating down in the air. The knife, beautifully crafted with an amber hilt and sapphire stone set on the end, thunked into the trunk of a thin elm behind the feather, pinning it to the tree.  
  
"Wonderful, my son!" Sawney Rath, chief of the Juskarath, patted his adoptive son on the back, gloating. "You are truly the Taggerung Juska!"  
  
One of the Juskarath, a weasel named Eefera, who was standing nearby, came up to the tree and yanked the deeply embedded dagger from the tree. After two tries, he managed to wrench the blade out of the tree, the feather attached.  
  
"I think I'm too close to the tree," commented the Taggerung, his dark eyes gazing at the blade as Eefera handed him it, bowing and murmuring, "Zann Juskarath Taggerung" over and over again.  
  
Sawney eyed the tree; it was about fifteen yards (A/N I'm using the American system- feet, yards, inches because I live in America, just telling you) away. "Are you sure, Tagg? You said that when you were about ten feet from it."  
  
Tagg nodded. "I'm sure, Sawney."  
  
Eefera gingerly picked up the goose feather and placed it flat on his paw, then blew hard, the feather whizzed in front of the tree.  
  
The young otter stepped back about six feet, and threw the knife.  
  
Like a sparrow, it zipped from Tagg's paw to the tree, making a deadly whistle as it whipped through the air.  
  
Thump! The exquisite blade struck the tree in the same placed as before, deepening the mark and once again, trapping the plume to the tree.  
  
Eefera retrieved it, wiping sap from the tree. He gave it back to the otter, keeping his eyes low. Stepping back, the weasel noticed a female stoat near the makeshift tent near the area where the Taggerung was practicing. He knew that stoat well- her son, too.  
  
Sawney Rath clapped his paws. "Great, Tagg, son! Pinned that feather to the tree, did you see my son, Antigra?"  
  
The female stoat, Antigra, drew her lip back. "Yes, O Sawney Rath," she muttered.  
  
Sawney Rath watched as Tagg flung the amber-hilted knife again, striking the mark dead center. "Of course, your oaf of a son could never amount to the Taggerung, could he, stoat?"  
  
Antigra stared at the ground in hate, pouring it all out silently. "No, Sawney Rath," she mumbled through gritted teeth.  
  
The ferret shook his head. "Huh, he probably off chasing his tail in the woodlands. I wouldn't bother to care for that stupid lump of fur you call kin, Antigra."  
  
She did not answer, merely stood up and started towards her tent, or sheet pulled over two high rocks. It was across the otter's throwing view, towards the thick woodlands, and she was walking when Sawney suddenly snapped, "You're in the Taggerung's way. Get out of his way, and bow to show your respect."  
  
Tagg watched in curiosity at the stoat, who bowed and murmured, "Zann Juskarath Taggerung," and ran to her shelter.  
  
Sawney Rath laughed, then said to Tagg, "Throw the knife again. Eefera, get the blade now!"  
  
Sawney paused as he watched Eefera tug the blade out of the tree. "Huh, Gruven, that mindless oaf, couldn't track his own nose! My Tagg, ah, Zann. You shall go to Vallug Bowbeast next."  
  
Tagg was staring out at the makeshift camp. "Er, yes, Sawney Rath."  
  
Sawney peered at his Taggerung. "What is it, Tagg?"  
  
The young otter shrugged. "I don't know. I've been having on and off dreams, ones that I can't remember."  
  
Sawney shook his head. "Dreams don't exist, they are merely thoughts that come in sleep. They are useless!"  
  
Tagg nodded, though his thoughts were focused on the vision he had while sleeping, where a pair of female otter were cooing over him, and a huge, protective, beast was standing nearby. They were fuzzy dreams, except the part where a mouse appeared, clad in armor, shouting the words, "Deyna! Deyna!" Then the dream ended, leaving Tagg to his daily life at the Juskarath camp.  
  
(Five minutes later)  
  
Vallug Bowbeast nodded. "That's right, Zann- 'old that shaft tight now, and loose!"  
  
The arrow sped from the string and thudded into the mark on the tree, a maple leaf. A cluster of arrows already surrounded it, and all of them were bunched around the middle of the leaf.  
  
"Great 'un, Taggerung." Vallug gave another shaft to the squint-eyed otter. "Try this 'un!"  
  
The arrow, as soon as it was notched onto the string, flew to the tree, which was about fifty feet away. It struck the target.  
  
Tagg grinned. "I suppose a few yards more away then, Bowbeast?"  
  
Vallug secretly didn't like the Taggerung- he seemed too strong, like Sawney Rath's father. Hiding this emotion, he pointed with a single paw towards a far away oak tree. "Aye, that 'un."  
  
The arrow, which Vallug had handed him, took off and smashed into the tree, snapping the arrow in half.  
  
"I guess that tree wood was too hard, Vallug," commented Tagg slowly. "A softer timber, perhaps?"  
  
Vallug almost couldn't hold his paws straight- they were shaking. Instead, he nodded towards Sawney Rath, who was talking to the clan Seer, Grissoul. "Go to the vixen and Sawney, Zann. 'Most time for vittles."  
  
Tagg dropped the bow and ran to the tent. Vallug picked up the bow with shaking paws. This Taggerung was stronger and a matched shot with him, the best bowbeast in the tribe. It was his skill in archery that gave rise to his second name; Bowbeast.  
  
Vallug went back to his tent, thinking deeply. He had much to think about.  
  
(End chapter one)  
  
A/N Ah, the joys of writing. I can write for two hours and think it has been two minutes. And it really has been two hours. I think...  
  
Please read and review! Wait, you already read. Then review please! I will feed all my writers ramen! (starts handing out ramen packets) Chicken flavor is the best. Then oriental.  
  
Tagg: You're getting off subject.  
  
Shadowsong: So....  
  
Please review! 


	2. Gruven

A/N 'Ello! I'm glad your reading my story. It's nice to know.  
  
There isn't much to say, except that I thank you all. Begin the story!  
  
Disclaimer: I own a bow, a fake sword, a laptop (95 Microsoft) and my room. Don't make me explain what I DON'T have. That would take quite a few seasons.  
  
(Chapter Two)  
  
"Tagg! Come in!" Sawney Rath spread my paws wide. "Vixen, get my warrior something to eat. Sit down, Tagg."  
  
The otter sat, his dark eyes watching the fox putter around.  
  
"Ah, Zann Juskarath Taggerung! Thee hast been doing well, I've heard." Grissoul offered a bowl of some sort of thick soupy substance and a flask of damson wine. He accepted them, and drank from the flagon, and downed the soup. Sawney chuckled.  
  
"My, Tagg, you have an appetite!"  
  
The Taggerung smiled. "Yes, Sawney. I was hungry. By the way, where's Gruven?"  
  
Sawney's smile faded. "Why do you want to know that, son?"  
  
Tagg shrugged. "I think that stoat is after me again. At least, he acted like it, slinking off into the woodlands with his sword." He didn't mention that Gruven had attempted to stab him during the night again- Sawney didn't need to know. Anyway, Tagg had paralyzed his left paw and arm until mid- afternoon. Had Sawney been there, he would have been ordered to slay the stupid stoat, but Tagg had never slain anybody.  
  
Sawney snorted. "Well, that idiot could never slay you. Why don't you kill him, Tagg?"  
  
Tagg shrugged again, a common gesture. "He is stupid, and doesn't know any better. I bet he's slew me millions- in dreams, anyhow." He paused, then held up the bowl. "Any more food, Grissoul?"  
  
Sawney kept the puzzled expression off his face and remained with an unemotional countenance. He chortled. "Yes, vixen, we want to keep our Taggerung well fed!"  
  
A pair of angry eyes watched them from a distance. They slipped away, going to a tent under two rocks. Antigra was in there, stirring a pot of something bubbling with a reed.  
  
She looked at her son, who sheathed his sword and smelt the soup. "What were you doing, Gruven?"  
  
Gruven clenched his paws, the steam rising around his face, giving an eerie look. "That stinkin' otter gets more attention then a real Juskabeast, me!"  
  
Antigra poured some broth into a conch shell. "Here, Gruven." She held it out to him. "'Tis boiled mackerel juice and powdered herbs."  
  
The jealous stoat ignored his mother, focusing on himself. "Aye, and that cursed clan chief, huh, some chief, calls an otter his son!"  
  
Antigra hit her son over the head with the hot reed stirrer. "Don't go about challenging the Taggerung again. We will get our chance soon. Sawney is getting older now, weaker too!"  
  
Gruven slammed his paws on the rock to his left. "The chance is now! I want to strike now! I want-"  
  
"What you want cannot happen until a few seasons more! Slay him when he is not ready!"  
  
Gruven glared at his mother. "That is now! When he is cooing over that stupid otter, we can kill him, and the otter too!"  
  
Antigra shook her head, placing the bowl down. "Listen, Gruven-"  
  
Gruven stamped out of the shelter. "I'm not listening to you or anybeast!" He slunk towards the tent of Sawney Rath.  
  
Antigra hissed, "No, son!"  
  
But the stoat was poised, wanting his revenge. Sword drawn in front of him, he yelled, "Look here, otter!"  
  
Tagg did not look, but dodged to the side, secretly clasping the blade of Sawney Rath in his paws. Gruven stabbed inward at the tent, yelling.  
  
Tagg swiftly grasped the blade of the knife and hit Gruven on the head with the sapphire pommel stone.  
  
The stoat slumped over, his sword sliding down with him. Sawney kicked the unconscious stoat with obvious distaste. "Kill him, Tagg, he tried to do the same to you!"  
  
Tagg shook his head. "Nay, he is a foolish beast, and that would be like slaying him for living. Let him live- his embarrassment should kill his ego anyway." He went back in the tent, handing Sawney the blade.  
  
Sawney seemed to think about throwing the knife at Gruven's head, then decided not to. Laughing, he stuck it in his belt and looked at the glaring Antigra. "Haha, your son can't chase his tail if he tried! He's as dumb as your mate! The name Gruven must do it, eh?"  
  
Antigra held her tongue, but muttered when he left, "One day, I shall slay you- and when I do, I dance over your carcass!"  
  
(Later that day, nighttime)  
  
Tagg slumbered beneath the stars, his fierce tattooed face serene. In his paw was clasped Sawney Rath's blade. A dragonfly fluttered down and landed on his ear. The otter did not even twitch. He was too deeply immersed in his dreams.  
  
He was in a cradle, and heard rushing water around him. A voice from behind him said, "Hoho, what a riverdog you're goin' t'be! Not only got that back wet in runnin' water, but you nearly swam away from your ole dad..." The voice carried on. Tagg felt peaceful, and smelt deep woodlands.  
  
The dream whirled around like a maelstrom, showing flashes of other otters, mice, and even a huge badger. Finally, the mouse wielding a sword appeared.  
  
"Deyna!"  
  
Tagg had no recollection of the dream in the morning.  
  
(End Chapter Two)  
  
A/N Ah, yet another chapter ending. I can hear the angry yells from the reviewers...  
  
Actually, I'm kind of curious- this is really random, but what is your favorite Redwall creature between the two, otter or squirrel? I like otter, but strongly admire squirrels. Both are great warriors, and brandish long range weapons, a sling and a bow, but I just want to know what you think.  
  
Please review! Sorry that this chapter is short, but it is that way. Can't help it. Well, I can, but I prefer this chapter short. See ya next chappie, chaps and chapessess. 


	3. A coming battle

A/N Ughh... no reviews since I've checked. Oh well, I still love to write and don't write for reviews. Though I do love constructive criticism and compliments. Hint. Hint.  
  
Yes, I understand that this is the last chapter. This was meant to be a short story.  
  
I'm thinking of doing a SSM:B fic, so if you only read Redwall, I might put up another Redwall one.  
  
Read and review!  
  
P.S I know Tagg seems a bit OOC, but please live with it.  
  
(Begin Chapter Three)  
  
Tagg woke up in the morning to the chirping birds. Not even opening his eyes, he guessed it was nearing dawn. The coolness of the morning, even though it was nearing summer, and the newly chirping birds gave it away. When the otter opened his dark eyes, he was proved correct. The sun had given Tagg a beautiful sunrise and warmness was pervading the vermin camp. Not for long, however, did Tagg have to admire the view.  
  
"Ah, Tagg. Ready for weapons practice?" Sawney had also waken up; Tagg had a feeling he had been watched, and it must've been Sawney. "You can have breakfast later."  
  
Tagg nodded, and checked to make sure the amber blade of Sawney Rath was there. He knew it was- he just wanted an excuse to look away from his adoptive father.  
  
Eefera was near the elm tree as usual. The only thing not usual was that he had a sword in his paw. Tagg saw this and asked Sawney, "Why does Eefera have a sword? Isn't this my Taggerung training?"  
  
Eefera nodded. "Yah, Taggerung, but Sawney thought it was time fer you to learn how to use a sword." He came up to the otter and offered his sword handle first. Tagg took it, filled with curiosity.  
  
Eefera nodded. "That's 'ow to 'old the 'andle. 'Ere-"  
  
Tagg was not listening- instead, he felt as if he had used the sword a million times. His paw felt perfectly in place with it, almost as if his paw had been shaped to a sword.  
  
Sawney noticed this and said to Eefera, "Get out of the way our Taggerung!"  
  
Tagg did not wield the sword as in attack; instead, he said to Eefera, "Throw something up in the air. A stick, rock, dirt, anything!"  
  
Eefera bent down, and pick up a wad of wet and sticky loam. He tossed it up, then beat an undignified retread behind a large boulder.  
  
Tagg whipped the sword through the air. It sliced through the loam and severed the sticky threads holding it together. Again, Eefera picked up the loam, and later, sticks and branches, and all them end up like the first attack- severed, shorn in half, or chopped into shreds.  
  
Sawney, not for the first time, regretted having an otter as the Taggerung. As he was watching Tagg brandish the sword, he wished that the same energy used in practice could be used in battle. And yet, no battle had come for a long while. It puzzled the ferret chief to no extent.  
  
Tagg had maimed ever piece of material Eefera had tossed up when Sawney ordered, "Stop! You've been doing great, Tagg, but let's keep going with my knife, shall we?"  
  
Tagg nodded gave the sword back to it's original owner, Eefera. It had taken nothing out of him. No weapons practice ever did.  
  
Sawney gave the knife to Tagg. As he did every morning since he could walk, Tagg threw his knife.  
  
(Later, near noon)  
  
Gruven, as he did every morning, watched Sawney Rath and the Taggerung practice weapons. His eyes glared at the otter, still hurling the blade, now at different trees. The stoat muttered under his breath: "That stupid otter, taking my place in the clan. If he had not been claimed Taggerung, I'm sure I would've been!"  
  
The jealous stoat continued watching the pair. "That little otterbrat, not fit to be Taggerung. He doesn't even resemble a Taggerung!"  
  
Gruven slunk away, planning another attack on the Taggerung Juska.  
  
(Still nearing noon, lunch)  
  
Tagg slipped out Sawney Rath's dagger and used to cut his meat, roasted woodpigeon. Taking a wing and chewing it, he looked around.  
  
Sawney was talking to Vallug about something; Grissoul was casting feather, dust, and bones into the fire; the camp seemed peaceful and quiet.  
  
But it wasn't. Tagg, as usual, ate outside, like he preferred. He noticed a rustle in the bushes, and then pretended not to notice. Leaving his half- eaten pigeon on the grass, he stood up.  
  
Gruven, who had been hiding in the bushes, leapt out, wielding his sword, slashing at the air. "Die, Tagg! You took my place in the clan- I'll take it back!"  
  
Tagg pretended not to notice Gruven; he merely turned away. Gruven felt a sudden rush of anger and lunged forward with the sword.  
  
Sawney bounded into the area of battle, witnessing the fight. Grissoul watched from the shadows.  
  
Tagg whirled around, and as the stoat came closer, kicked out with a strong footpaw.  
  
Gruven gasped in pain, and dropped his sword. Tagg gripped his collarbone in a tough grasp, paralyzing him from the neck down. (A/N At least that's what I've heard)  
  
The stoat seemed to only get angrier after that. He tried at clawing the Taggerung, but his arms were useless, not even twitching. Gruven eventually slumped over, his shoulders in the powerful clasp of the Taggerung.  
  
Tagg let the limp body drop. Gruven made small whimpers of pain, but in his mind, plotted revenge for all the times Tagg had defeated him.  
  
Sawney came forward, and spat on the vermin on the grass. "Huh, some Juskabeast, attacking their own Taggerung!"  
  
Antigra came forward to take her son to the tent, but Sawney held her back. "You're mate was as stupid as your son. Perhaps it runs in the family?"  
  
Gruven glared in hate and agony at the smug ferret. Someday I will get you, Sawney Rath, thought Antigra for the thousandth time in her life. And when I do, you will pay.  
  
Sawney stepped away, but not before asking Tagg, "Why don't you slay him? The second time in two days, Tagg!"  
  
The otter shook his head, trying to avoid slaying Gruven. "The blood might dirty your blade. Do you really want his blood ruining your special knife?"  
  
Sawney stared at the otter in amazement. The Taggerung, again, giving up a free kill? Then he laughed, to show that he wasn't going to force Tagg. "Did you all hear that, Juskarath? Hah!"  
  
He turned to Tagg, who was walking back to his lunch. "Get ready for knife practice in five minutes, my son."  
  
(After practice of knife and bow)  
  
Sawney Rath sat by Grissoul, who was nearly sitting in the fire. She tossed in a pawful of moss, which gave off an eerie green smoke. Next, grass, fresh and green, coupled with some bark. All of it gave of the same green smoke.  
  
Sawney realized what she was doing.  
  
"You're trying to tell what's going on in the forest, aren't you, my Seer?"  
  
The vixen nodded. She tossed in some dirt, and a rush of reddish smoke floated up. "Aye, lord. 'Tis a strange time, for I sense another clan moving in on thy territory. There is going to be a battle!"  
  
Sawney leaned closer to the fire, though the amount was about three inches closer. "How many is their number, my faithful seer?"  
  
The fox closed her eyes, and picked up a shorn dagger blade. Clenching it in her paws, and drawing blood, she tossed the crimson-stained blade, sending up dust. Opening her eyes and ignoring the dust, she peered in, noting the small chunks of dust that stayed attached to the knife blade.  
  
"Lord, about a score and half, 'tis half our clan's number." She stuck her paws into the heat and pulled out the knife, paying no heed to the burns on her paws.  
  
Sawney grinned. "Aye, we shall defeat them easily!"  
  
Tagg heard this and leaned against the rock outside. How was he supposed to get out of this?  
  
(End Chapter Three)  
  
A/N Yay! Since I've checked, two new reviews! Yippe!  
  
This is going to be a four chapter story. I know in the book it said that for many season, there was no killing raids and little tribal strife, but it never said no fights with another clan. Plus, this is a fanfiction. So I can't get sued if I get it wrong by Brian Jacques.  
  
I wish I did own Redwall though...  
  
Tagg: You're way too wishful-thinking, Shadowsong.  
  
Shadowsong: Ah quiet Zann!  
  
Tagg: (Goes off to his room in the Redwall dorms)  
  
Shadowsong: Wait! I need you for the fic! (Chases after him) 


	4. Epilogue

A/N Hello! My Microsoft Word is completely screwing up, I can't seem to get it to work, I accidentally made page breaks, and can't get rid of them, and it is really annoying me. Ughhh. Also, I can't use the tab key without it going almost to the end of the other side of the page. Any help? Please, you almighty Word wizards?  
  
But whatever. This is the last chapter of Amber Blade, and I hope you like it and read all my other fics, please.  
  
Read and review!  
  
(Begin chapter four)  
  
Tagg was sharpening Sawney Rath's blade on a large rock when the owner of that very knife came up, a crafty gleam in his keen eyes.  
  
"Ah, Tagg, Zann Juskarath Taggerung, did you hear about the certain battle coming up?"  
  
Tagg carefully kept a straight face, tattooed and stolid. "No, what battle?"  
  
Sawney laughed. "There is to be a great battle with another clan today. I hope you choose to participate in it, my Taggerung?" A hint of challenge was in this statement.  
  
Tagg shrugged. "If I face I foe, I guess I'll defeat him."  
  
Sawney grinned; his Tagg was willing to fight. "And you will slay him?"  
  
Tagg returned the grin. "If need."  
  
Sawney's stomach twinged. Sawney knew Tagg would not take life unless needed; that was what bothered him these past seasons.  
  
A shout from the camp came towards the Juska chief. "Sire, I sees a Juska scout not from 'hour clan!"  
  
Sawney rubbed his paws together in excitement. "Great then. Tagg, come!"  
  
Tagg reluctantly rose, feeling the edge of the blade, anxiously hoping that he would not have to use it.  
  
(Later in the Juska camp)  
  
A Juskarath scout came back, panting. "Juska coming... 'bout a score and a arf... coming!"  
  
Sawney nodded. "You, Rikcle, take up your sword and six Juska to defend our front. Tagg, find their leader- you know what to do. Narha, take eight and help Rikcle in second rank. Scarwol, guard the rear from attack and stop them from getting to our camp. The rest of you, the sides!"  
  
Tagg slipped off into the woodlands, almost glad he had gotten this. He could knock the leader unconscious, then tie him up tightly. That's what he would do.  
  
There was a rustle behind him. Tagg stood as still as the amber fly (remember the poem? Hehe... had to add that in there), waiting.  
  
A whirring sound warned Tagg to duck. The swift otter ducked and at the same time, leapt at the bushes, yelling, "I am the Taggerung Juskaaaaaa!"  
  
His footpaws connected with something solid, like a head. A soft "uhh..." from the bushes alerted Tagg that he had hit a beast. Clasping his rough paws around the beast's neck, the otter dragged him out of the bushes with ease.  
  
It was a male fox, bright red with a black tip to his ears and two dark green slashes, tattoos, across his face. Across his snout was a blue-ish triangle without a base. A wavy red line on the forehead proclaimed him the leader of that Juska clan, Tagg could tell, because the scout had described the Juska earlier.  
  
The fox looked at Tagg and froze. The vermin must've know that I'm Taggerung, thought Tagg. Perhaps that's a good thing.  
  
The Juska took no time. Even groggy and faint, he was speedy and tried to escape into the thick woodlands.  
  
Tagg sped after him, faster than a hawk on a sparrow. The fox looked over his shoulder and saw the barbaric-looking otter coming after him. The crafty eyes widened at the fearsome sight, the Taggerung coming after him. Fear and natural speed quickened him.  
  
But the Taggerung was faster than any fox, or beast for that matter. The young otter took the chance and leapt at the fox, flooring him with a fleet punch to the neck. The fox collapsed.  
  
Tagg checked the fox's breathing with a blade of grass; still alive. He gathered some vines from the trees around him and tied up the fox, not even thinking about slaying the helpless beast.  
  
After tying up the fox, he gagged him and bound the paws together, the same with the footpaws.  
  
The fox was left to the oak tree, unconscious. Tagg sneaked off to see how the rest of the Juska was doing.  
  
(Later, at the Juska camp)  
  
Sawney Rath had blood-covered paws- Tagg did not ask. Only a few Juskarath were slain, and the bodies were tossed out into the woodlands to rot.  
  
Sawney, after seeing Tagg come back, came up to the otter. "Ah, my son, Tagg. Did you slay the leader of the Duskiness?"  
  
Tagg guessed that the Duskiness was the name of the clan that they had fought and said, "I didn't kill him, I knocked him unconscious. He won't wake for a while, and have fun untying the knots I made in the vines."  
  
Sawney seethed inside. His father had been swift and deadly, and slew often without reason. Now his Taggerung didn't even want to slay!  
  
"But, son, I said kill him."  
  
Tagg shrugged his brawny shoulders. "His clan dead, he'll have nowhere to go. That's better than slaying him, I think."  
  
The powerful otter walked off. The leader of the Juskarath stared, wondering. Perhaps it was because he was an otter, not a vermin. Perhaps it was because he was truly a Juska. Whatever it was, the next few seasons might be hard.  
  
(The next day)  
  
Tagg had the dreams again, but could not remember them. They troubled him in the night, nagged him during the day. And yet, the same dream always appeared. The pair of lovely otters, a huge beast, and at the end, the mouse wielding a sword.  
  
Tagg was thinking about this when Grissoul came up, tugging on his kilt. "Thy father wants to see thee, Zann."  
  
Tagg yawned and got up, stretching. "Hmph, most likely about last night's battle." He made his way towards the chief's tent.  
  
Sawney saw the otter approaching and motioned for him to sit next to him, in a friendly way.  
  
"Tagg, Taggerung, Zann Juskarath Taggerung. Do you remember last night's battle between the Juskasen and us?"  
  
Tagg nodded. "Aye, Sawney, I do. What about that battle?"  
  
Sawney noticed the aloofness in those words and said more sternly, "I deliberately said to kill that chieftain."  
  
Tagg kept a stolid expression. Sawney was like a baby squirrel with a candied chestnut- he wouldn't let go. "Aye, Sawney. I remember. I said that I had no need to slay a helpless beast since I knocked him senseless."  
  
Sawney nodded. "Well, next time I give a direct order-"  
  
A crash from outside the camp startled Sawney. He leapt up and rushed outside. Tagg quietly crept off the other way, not wanting to know what his chieftain was about to say.  
  
(Night in the Juska camp)  
  
Tagg was sleeping under the stars like he did almost every night, staring up at the stars. How he wished he could be anywhere else but the Juska camp, but where could he go? Only him dreams let him escape from here, but he always came back.  
  
The dreams. They started again, but tonight was different. There was no pair of otters, nor the huge beast, but only the mouse.  
  
The mouse carried the sword aloft. Instead of being fierce, the mouse actually smiled. Tagg felt like this was a fatherly beast, but knew he was a warrior, from the sword to the eyes, which were bright and keen, used to battle.  
  
The mouse, as always, spoke the word that puzzled Tagg for the past twelve seasons.  
  
"Deyna!"  
  
(End Story)  
  
A/N Whew. What a story. Short, I know, but it was supposed to be a three chapter story. Think of it as a bonus chapter.  
  
I'm going to be working on two stories at a time, Sleep over and the Redwall one-shot, Pearls of Blood. Please read PoB and if you like Super Smash Brothers, Sleep over. Both blurbs are in my bio.  
  
See you next story! 


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